


The Adventures of Captain America, Lady Liberty, and their Dog, Patriot

by thebeatofmyowndrum



Series: American Liberty [1]
Category: Captain America, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Molly is Tony's Goddaughter and Bucky's Granddaughter, One really messed up Family Tree, Spunky OC, Time Travel, Tony shouldn't let minors into his lab when working for SHIELD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:31:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeatofmyowndrum/pseuds/thebeatofmyowndrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Barnes knew her grandfather was one of Captain America's Howling Commandos. She'd grown up listening to her Gran Moira tell her this. When Molly went to live with her Godfather, Tony Stark, he'd even shown her. The last thing Molly would have even considered dreaming about is for one of Tony's S.H.I.E.L.D.projects to backfire and send her back to 1940. Where she's rescued from a group of thugs by none other than her Grampa Bucky and his cute, but scrawny best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Molly Barnes get's Doc Brown'd.

So this is the start of a fic I've been working on all summer. The idea for Molly showed up Memorial Day Weekend 2012 and wouldn't leave until I started working on this. I currently have this first chapter, the majority of the second chapter and the last chapter written. So now all I have to do is work on the middle. One of my friends was very confused about Molly's origins, but I promise as this fic goes on, I'll explain everything. Enjoy!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Molly Buchanan Barnes should have known better. If Uncle Tony was holed up in his lab with The Eagles on instead of AC/DC, things weren't going great with whatever doohickey he was working on for SHIELD. Not that he worked on doohickeys for them often, but when he did, Molly stayed clear.

 

But of COURSE the one time Molly sets foot in the lab to ask Uncle Tony about her graduation party, WAM! Blue bolt of light and she wakes up in an alley surrounded by goons in shirts and ties and gets saved by her freaking GRANDFATHER and his friend, who just so happens to be the cutest guy Molly has ever laid her eyes on.

 

But getting back on track, this was completely and TOTALLY NOT Uncle Tony’s fault. It was Pepper’s. 

 

But Molly’s getting way too far ahead of herself right now. 

 

It started on a Friday. The day after Uncle Tony’s official consulting hours and Agent Coulson was sitting in the kitchen helping himself to a cup of coffee. 

 

“I’m not seeing this, you aren’t here,” Molly announced as she opened the freezer to root around for her Eggo Waffles. “Because if I see you and you’re here, that means there’s paper work for me to fill out about not seeing the large SHIELD project in the lab that really isn’t here.”

 

“Well seeing as I’m not here to take Stark to a SHIELD office to work on a project that doesn’t exist, there are no NDA forms on the table for you,” Agent Coulson countered as Molly slammed the freezer closed. 

 

“And this, Philly Phil,” Molly announced as she crossed the kitchen to the toaster on the opposite counter, “is why you are my favorite S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent in existence.” 

 

“I’m the only Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. you should have ever knowingly come in contact with,” Coulson countered as he added fifteen scoops of sugar to the travel mug and a more than healthy dose of creamer. “And you have a bus to catch in fifteen minutes.”

 

“I don’t take the bus,” Molly said confused once she realized it was her mug and her preferred way of coffee preparation. “Happy usually drops me off before he brings Pepper to work. And my classes don’t start until 9:30. Open campus is the best thing EVER.”

 

“This morning your school is having a Very Special Visitor,” Coulson informed Molly without looking up from his phone. He was checking messages on something. Molly knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. ran on a tight schedule and if they were more than five minutes behind, Agent Coulson had this vein that would throb on his left temple. 

 

“I can hear the capitals in that sentence,” Molly commented as she flipped her waffles over in the toaster oven. “Can I get a hint on who this VSV is? Or do I have to suffer and wait in anticipation like the rest of my trust fund endowed classmates.”

 

“Me,” Tony announced waltzing into the kitchen dressed in a dark suit with an electric blue silk tie. “I’m coming to speak about philanthropy and why the stuck up brats should donate to the Maria Stark Foundation Scholarship Fund.”

 

“So if Agent P over here is herding you around like he’s Pepper, where’s Pepper?” Molly asked thoroughly confused.

 

“Ms. Potts and I had a bet regarding the media fall out after Mr. Stark’s Iron Man announcement,” Coulson offered. “I lost and now am spending a week of paid vacation doing her job while she enjoys herself in a Mexican Resort Spa.”

 

“And nobody warned you to NOT make a deal with Pepper?” Molly asked with a laugh. “You really walked into this one, Agent Coulson.”

 

“For the week, it’s Mr. Francis,” Coulson said as he checked his watch again. “You have ten minutes to eat and get dressed Molly. I suggest you move, now.”

 

“On it, Mr. Francis!” Molly chirped as she skipped out of the kitchen. 

 

“How is it that you talk to her for less than ten minutes and she does what’s she’s told; and when I tell her to do something, it takes ten minutes of whining and begging to get it done?” Tony whined from the kitchen. Molly didn’t hear Coulson’s reply because she was too busy cackling at her uncle’s tone of voice.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Four weeks later Molly is once again making Eggo Waffles for breakfast and sees Agent Coulson. “Am I seeing you or is JARVIS playing tricks on me this time?” Molly asked flipping through the US Weekly Iron Man Collector’s magazine. 

 

“I was never here,” Agent Coulson said, sweeping through heading for the stairs to the basement.

 

“Got it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The day after the Birthday Party Smash Up the House Palooza, Molly stood in the destroyed first level of the Malibu house and sighed. 

 

Agent Coulson walked up next to her and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, “I am here as are the armed guards carrying those black cases out of the dark vans which were never here.”

 

“I’m going to New York!” Molly announces in frustration. Her house was destroyed for the most part (thank God her room was in almost pristine condition), Uncle Tony was hung over and bitchy, Pepper had flown out earlier that morning, and Rhodey had taken off with one of the Iron Man suits. She’d had a rough day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Three months post Hammer Sentencing, Molly stepped off the elevator taking the time to twirl around in her vintage dress a few times before slipping into Tony’s lab. 

 

There was music playing, but there was something off about it; maybe because Molly could hear Dummy and Butterfingers whirling about and JARVIS’ running commentary on whatever Tony was playing with.

 

“Uncle Tony, Aunt Pepper said if you’re not ups-“ Molly started but was cut off by the pulse of blue light she was caught in as Tony’s fingers slid off of his tools in surprise. 

 

Molly stumbled back in surprise, shrieked, and quickly threw her arms up in front of her face to shield herself.

 

When she opened her eyes and saw an empty cavernous space that had, less than five seconds before, contained the cluttered New York workshop of Tony Stark, Molly knew she was in trouble. Big trouble, she decided when a man cleared his throat behind her.

 

“Um, hi?” she said nervously wracking her brain as to how and WHY she had ended up here and the nice looking man with the graying mustache sighed.

 

“You must be one of Mr. Stark’s new secretary applicants,” he said in a British accent. “However the position has been filled and I shall help you find the door, Madam.”

 

“Thank you,” Molly managed as her brain tried to catch up. “I don’t even know how I ended up in here, I was looking for the bathroom and just um, sorry if I’m not supposed to be down here,” she finally settled on trailing after the butler? He has to be the butler, up the stairs and out of the basement. 

 

This left Molly standing in Midtown Manhattan in Retroland with no money except for the ten dollars Jeeves had given to her as compensation for her wasted time and trip into town. 

 

Molly noticed a few things as she wandered Midtown on her own, the ten dollars shoved into the safest place she could think of (her bra), and just took in all of New York City of Yesteryear. And the dates on the newspapers that were being hawked on the corners of almost EVERY block she came across. June 15th, 1940.

 

1940.

 

NINETEEN FOURTY.

 

AS IN THE YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED AND FOURTY.

 

So it’s really easy to understand how Molly couldn’t explain how she found herself wandering around Brooklyn an hour later. There was most definitely a ride on the subway and trains involved and she was being relentlessly followed by a pair of jerk wads who couldn’t take a hint that no meant no.

 

“Now what would a good looking dame like you be doin’ all by her lonesome in this part of town?” Flunky Numero Uno in the horrible paisley tie drawled out trying and failing to slyly grab at Molly’s elbow. (Molly has taken and complete three RAD classes thank you very much. Billionaire Godfather Paranoia really does pay off sometimes).

 

Molly ignored him and picked up the pace a little bit, she spotted a dinner at the end of the block and was determined to make it there and ask for directions to the nearest precinct when one of the creepy hecklers in horrible ties that clashed with their jackets actually got one over on her and yanked her into an alley as she shrieked in surprise.

 

“LEMME GO!” Molly howled out as she kicked and thrashed around. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

 

Molly was struggling against four menacing men and her shrieks and screams were drawing a crowd as she fought back like an alley cat.

 

So when one of the guys groping her and feeling her up was torn away with a grunt of surprise, Molly took the opportunity to bite and scratch her way out of the most violated situation she’d ever found herself in.

 

The piece de resistance in her escape was a well placed kick to the cojones of the man who had pulled her into the alley. Unfortunately, Molly landed in a pile of garbage bags next to one of her battered looking rescuers.

 

“Are you okay, Miss?” he asked when he realized it was Molly laying beside him. 

 

“I’ve been better, but they really didn’t hurt me that much,” Molly admitted once she got her breath back. She sat up gingerly to see a group of New York’s finest racing into the alley, whistles blowing and tackling her assailants along with one of her rescuers. 

 

Molly did a double take when she saw the man and heard the groan from her neighbor.

 

“Not again!” The blond man exclaimed, exasperated. “That’s the second time this month he’s gotten arrested for a fight he didn’t start.”

 

“I didn’t catch your names,” Molly said as she tried to place the dark haired hero.

 

“I’m Steve Rogers,” Blondie said with a sheepish smile, “my friend in the bracelets is Bucky Barnes.”

 

“Molly Barton,” Molly said coming up with the first name she could think of and stuck out her hand to shake hands with Steve. “Pleasure to meet you Steve Rogers. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

 

“Understandable Miss Barton,” Steve said helping her get up now. “Would you like some help getting home?”

 

Molly smiled tightly and sighed, “I’m afraid I don’t have any place to go actually. My bags were lost back in Chicago and I’ve got ten dollars to my name and I’ve been attacked on my first day in the city. Do you think you could help me find a place to stay?” Lies. All lies. But Molly didn't have another reason for why she was "new" to Brooklyn with just under ten dollars to her name, currently stashed once again in her bra.

 

As Steve searched for answers, it finally came to Molly. Bucky Barnes.

 

James “Bucky” Barnes. Her grandfather. She’d just been saved from a group of 1940 hugs by her freakin’ grandfather of all people. She was happy she had used Agent Clint Barton’s last name then. The last thing she needed was to be linked to Bucky just yet. She’d seen Back to the Future and Doctor Who enough times, thank you very much. Once she found a way to get home, Molly was going to KILL Uncle Tony. Not like it was his fault.

 

It was Aunt Pepper’s.

 

If Pepper hadn’t made her go downstairs to tell Tony he had to be present for party planning she wouldn’t be stranded in 1940 praying for the Doctor and the TARDIS to be real to show up and take her home.

 

But then again, Molly mused as she listened to Steve prattle on and watched as the Sergeant approached her, 1940 was starting to look better as she took in Steve Rogers. 

 

Scrawny and on the shorter side, he had great potential as far as boyfriend material went. That was, if she didn’t wake up at home and this was all a horrible dream. Molly had a sinking sensation in her belly that she would wake up in 1940 the next day.


	2. Molly Discovers Tony Has in Fact, Doc Brown'd Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly wakes up stuck in 1940 and it's not a horrible nightmare. Bucky finds her a job, and Molly might just possibly have a date on Friday. But before that, she has to survive her first week in 1940 with one dress and no idea how much a second one will cost.

Chapter Two – Molly Discovers that Tony has in fact Doc Brown’d Her.

Molly woke up and groaned. She felt like she’d fallen asleep in the kitchen on the island again after trying to teach Uncle Tony how to bake cupcakes for Pepper’s birthday a few years ago. She stretched out and yelped when her left hand whacked a concrete wall. Once Molly realized where she was, she shot up and pulled the covers up to her chin and took in her surroundings.

Molly was sleeping in a twin bed with an incredibly thin and lumpy mattress in a sparsely furnished room. There was a second twin bed frame in the room, but the mattress was conspicuously missing and the bedroom door was shut. 

The Brooklyn Dodger’s Pennant on the wall calmed Molly down as her mind raced to provide answers that made sense beyond ‘Uncle Tony Perfected a Time Travel Device for S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was the Test Dummy and I’ve Been Rescued by my Grampa Bucky and his Friend Steve’. And Molly quickly came to realize that was the sanest answer. 

After catching her breath and small panic attack over (Molly liked to deny she even suffered from the occasional freak out session) the curious girl slid out of the bed and almost yelped when her feet hit the cold floor of the bedroom. The pennant kept pulling her over as Molly slid into her socks from the day before, which were neatly folded up on top of her clothes from the day before in a chair. 

Up close, Molly inspected the blue and white piece of material and traced over the lettering and realized she had one just like it in her room at home. It had belonged to Captain America before the War and Grampa Bucky had gotten his hands on it somehow. He’d sent it back to Gran Moira and it had been a dear possession in the Barnes family since then. 

Molly was disrupted from further inspection of the seemingly innocent wall hanging by a timid knock on the door. 

“Miss Barton?” Steve Rogers called from the other side of the door. “Are you decent?”

Molly knew she was still wearing her bra and was in a white collared shirt that she’d slept in. (Bucky had been coerced into donating his clothes as he was taller than Molly and Steve; He had been slapped for his attempts at flirting. Slapping her grandfather across the face was an odd experience for Molly to say the least. Especially since Steve had given Bucky a look that said ‘You deserved it’.)

“Just a second,” Molly called out and grabbed at somebody’s bathrobe to keep Steve from turning scarlet when he opened the door. “Come on in!”

Steve opened the door and smiled at Molly shyly. “Bucky’s gone to get the paper and to see if the Church on 42nd can help find you a place to stay once the Rectory opens up.”

“Is Bucky too scared to talk to me after I slapped him across the face?” Molly asked as she plopped down onto the bed and sat cross legged.  
Steve shrugged and had a wicked glint in his eye, “He didn’t say as much but I suspect that’s why. You’re the first dame, I mean lady, to actually slap him like that. It took him off guard.”

Molly smiled and giggled. “He deserved it. He was leering. It was creepy.”

Steve tried to fight the smile that was creeping on to his face and failed. “That’s just Bucky. He’s usually pretty good at talking to women.”

“Well this one woman does not appreciate being stared at like she’s a piece of meat. Besides, he reminds me of my Dad,” Molly admitted. “It’s a little unnerving to find that someone who looks like your Dad is flirting with you.”

“That is kind of odd,” Steve said with a nervous smile. “You should probably tell him that and he’ll leave you alone.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Molly said. She felt a little weird sitting on somebody else’s bed in their clothes. At seventeen, she’d never been put in this situation before. She had a handful of friends from school in the City, Malibu, and in Lake George, mostly girls with two or three guys she was acquainted with but hadn’t been sure of how they stood with each other. 

Molly shuffled again and bit her lip. “Honesty time! This is the longest I’ve ever spent with a guy by myself. Ever.”

Steve blushed a little and smiled. “I usually don’t spend a lot of time with dames, I mean women. I’m a bit shy.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Molly said lightly bumping Steve’s shoulder. “So Mr. Shy Guy, what do you do when you and Bucky aren’t saving damsels in distress?”

“I’m saving up some money to take some art classes,” Steve said. “I’m an artist, or um, I want to be an artist.” 

“Can I see some of your stuff?” Molly asked excitedly. 

“They’re not that great,” Steve said shrugging. “Just some doodles on spare bits of paper.”

“Doodles on spare bits of paper are my favorite.” Molly countered. “My favorite works of art are by unknown artists.”

“Like who?” Steve asked curiously.

“If I told you, then they wouldn’t be unknown!” Molly cried with a laugh. “So I can’t tell you yet. Not until I’m satisfied on seeing enough of your pieces, Mr. Rogers!”

“If I show you some of my artwork, will you tell me some of their names?” Steve asked, glancing over to a notebook sitting on the bedside table. 

“Sure,” Molly said with a smirk. 

Steve handed Molly the leather bound notebook and she flipped through a few pages of written notes and stopped when she found some portraits; Bucky in several different stages of life, the neighbor’s kids from downstairs lugging their mom’s shopping in their little red wagon, building on the block that Molly vaguely recognized from last night and a few unfinished self portraits. “These are amazing, Steve. The attention to detail…It’s breathtaking,” Molly announced handing back his sketch book. 

“So you promised some unknown up-and-coming artists?” Steve said a little eagerly. If Molly wasn’t trapped in 1940, she’d assume he was going to Google their names and look up their work online, but seeing as Molly was stuck in 1940, she didn’t know what Steve was going to do with the names.

“Sure, unknown up and coming arteeeest names,” Molly said stressing the ‘I’ in artist. “Steve Rogers, and oh, Steve Rogers.” She giggled when Steve looked confused then annoyed and then amused. 

“Wasn’t expecting that, but that works,” Steve said with a laugh.

“What works?”

Molly and Steve whirled around to find Bucky standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jam with the paper under one of the arms crossed over his chest. He was trying to be that cute, flirty guy again. 

Molly rolled her eyes.

“Calling Steve a promising up and coming artist of the 20th Century,” Molly offered before she threw a pillow at Bucky.

The man was caught off guard and when the pillow collided with his torso he lost his balance and side stepped to avoid falling. “Jesus H Christ! What was that for?”

“Because your Don Juan charms aren’t working,” Molly said dead panned. “You’re not my type, fella, so drop it. You look like my Dad and it’s creeping me out.”

“Well when you put it that way, Sweetheart,” Bucky said straightening his clothes. “I’ll stop. Just don’t try to kill me. Crazy dames from Chicago.”

“Malibu actually,” Molly corrected. “Malibu by way of Lake George.”

“Lake George like Upstate?” Bucky asked sitting down on his bed on the other side of the room. 

“Mhm,” Molly said picking at the sleeves of the bathrobe. “I lived there until I was about eight. My Gran and Dad were the Head Housekeeper and Groundskeeper for this rich family’s summer estate. They sold it and moved to Malibu in California, and Dad and Gran followed with me in tow. They died in a fire about a year ago…I’m not so good at being a maid, so I just packed up and split. And they lost my things in Chicago and now I’m homeless and clothes-less in New York City. You guys found me just in time during the icing on the cake on what’s been a horrible month.” Molly was wincing on the inside for blatantly lying to Steve and Bucky, but if she told them she was from the future, they’d most likely cart her off to the nearest asylum. 

“Well then, us orphans need to stick together then,” Bucky said with a grin. “Father Kelly said they have an opening in the Rectory for a secretary. Don’t even need your high school diploma to get it.”

“Oh thank God,” Molly breathed. “I didn’t finish my Senior year. I needed to get out of California before I was trapped as a maid for the rest of my life. I’m absolutely rubbish at it.”

Steve was quiet as he fiddled with his notebook next to Molly on the bed. And then he started coughing. And wheezing. 

Before Molly could react, Bucky was up and across the room before Steve finished his first cough. 

“Is it your asthma or are you getting sick?” Bucky asked sounding genuinely concerned. “Do I need to call up the doctor?”

“I’m fine!” Steve wheezed out, gasping for air. “I’m fine. It’s just a cough.”

Molly sniffed the air and smelled cigarette smoke. She narrowed her eyes at Bucky and sighed. “You do realizing smoking triggers asthma? Smoking and then coming inside is just gonna set him off.”

Bucky and Steve turned and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “But, th-th-the doctor gave me asthma cigarettes. Said, they’d work,” Steve finally wheezed out as Bucky rubbed his back.

Molly shrugged. “Cook’s daughter had bad asthma and when her husband would smoke it just set their daughter off. Cook made him quit and their daughter’s asthma got better.”

“It’s an idea to try,” Bucky said sitting back. “And it’d save some extra money. Not spending anything on smokes three times a week.”

Steve nodded. “We can try it, see if it works.”

“So you were saying something about a job?” Molly asked, steering the conversation away from her inserting herself into their lives. 

“Right, uh, Father Kelly said to bring you by this afternoon around three to talk with him,” Bucky said handing her a scrap of paper from his pocket. He’ll have Mrs. Johnson show you the ropes. I’m pretty sure he’s going to hire you because news travels fast.”

“What news travels fast?” Molly asked narrowing her eyes at Bucky. “I’ve only been in the city for a day at most.”

“He’s already heard about our little scuffle from yesterday,” Steve guessed. “How?”

“Sister Rosita was out getting something for dinner, I think,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She went back to the rectory and told everybody and they’re pretty impressed you were able to hold your own as long as you did.”

“I just bit the guy and kicked him in the cojones,” Molly said with a shrug. And then paused because how many white people in Brooklyn actually threw Spanish into a conversation with other white people in the 1940s. Thank God she’d already said she’d lived in California. 

“I’m sorry, you kicked him where?” Bucky asked.

“In the cojones,” Molly said biting her lip. “Uh, you know, the uh family jewels, his uh, Oh God, his balls?”

Bucky grinned, not the leering ‘charming’ grin he’d used earlier, but an actual grin. “Steve, we’ve found a dame who can fight dirty. And isn’t ashamed to admit it.”

“You’ve also got a woman who would very much like a shower and a new dress, but is in need of funds to acquire such luxuries,” Molly said with a sigh. “So shower, possible?”

“Not ‘til after ten,” Steve said with a groan. “Mrs. Dalton and her kids hog the bathroom for a while. And after they’re done, the dock crew gets ready for work. And then we get in around ten.”

“How many people are we talking about sharing a bathroom with?” Molly asked, incredibly put out.

“Bout fifteen, counting all the Dalton brats,” Bucky said with a shrug. “We can leave for a few minutes and let you get changed.”

“That’ll work too,” Molly said getting up off the bed. “Now shoo, I want to get changed in peace.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two hours after Molly had forcibly removed Steve and Bucky from their own bedroom, the trio walked arm in arm down the block from All Saints Parish. 

“I can’t thank you guys enough for getting me this job!” Molly gushed, a spring in her step. “Once I get paid, I’m gonna treat you guys to dinner. Any where you want.”

Bucky and Steve grinned like loons. “You might want to revise that, Molly. Bucky’s likely to pick the most expensive joint in Manhattan.”

“Then you’re limited to Brooklyn Proper,” Molly countered as they stopped at a cross walk. She glanced over at the cinema posters on the wall and tried to remember if she’d seen any of the upcoming pictures. “My Favorite Wife,” she read off and Steve turned his head to look too.

“Cary Grant’s got a new picture coming out?” Steve asked at Molly’s excitement. “Do you want to go and see it next week when it’s playing?”

“Would I?” Molly asked a gleam in her eye. “I’d love to!”

“We should go to the seven o’clock showing, after we both get out of work and have some dinner,” Steve suggested.

“It’s a date, Mr. Rogers!” Molly replied with a grin.

Steve’s face paled. Bucky laughed.


	3. Molly, meet Moira. Moira, meet Molly. Gran, meet your Granddaughter. Granddaughter, meet your Gran.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly starts her job in the Rectory and it seems she's gotten herself a date with one Stephen Rogers. Hair styling shenanigans ensues. Bucky has decided he no longer appreciates Steve's taste in dames.

Chapter Three – Molly meet Moira. Moira Meet Molly. Gran meet Granddaughter. Granddaughter meet your Great Aunts and Uncle

 

It took about an hour for Steve to realize Molly had pretty much set him up to ask him on a date. And he went into full panic mode as Bucky led the three of them to meet his new girl, Moira. Molly was internally freaking out because she was on the way to meet her Gran.

“Did I break Steve?” Molly asked as they traipsed across Brooklyn. 

“Possibly,” Bucky responded. “This is the first time he’s been on a date.”

“First date ever?” Molly asked. “I don’t believe it!”

“First date ever,” Steve responded between gasping breaths. 

Molly slowed down and turned to face Steve. “No way. How have you not gotten a date before?”

“Most girls don’t look twice at the sick guy when I’m with Bucky,” Steve said shrugging. “I get sick a lot, and can’t go out too often when I do.”

Molly shrugged. “I used to get sick when I was a kid too. Drove my Gran bonkers because she thought I was faking it half the time.”

“You two must be a match made in Heaven,” Bucky muttered taking a sharp left towards a towering tenement building. 

“What’s up with him?” Molly asked at the sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor. 

“Moira’s sisters don’t like Bucky.” Steve said quietly. “They think he’s trouble.”

The pair trailed after Bucky into the building and up four flights of stairs, at a much slower pace to let Steve keep up. Molly didn’t comment. She knew it would be rude to. Steve looked grateful.

“How many sisters does Moira have?” Molly asked as they skirted a gaggle of kids thundering down the stairs to play stick ball in the street. Molly knew the answer, three that came with her to America in 1938, two at home in Glasgow, and her three sisters who had come to New York would go back to Glasgow after the Pearl Harbor attacks to appease their mother. 

“Five, I think,” Steve said. “And two brothers back in Scotland.”

“That’s,” Molly paused. “That’s a lot of siblings,” she finally decided on. Great Uncles Alastair and Calum wouldn’t survive the war. Gran Moira rarely spoke about them. 

“It’s even crazier because Bucky’s got a few sisters and brothers, too. I can’t keep up with how many Barnes kids are running loose in Brooklyn.” 

“There’re eight of us,” Bucky said from the landing with a grin on his face. “Me, Sally, Mary, Annie, Joseph, Beatrice, Rebecca and then there’s Colleen. She’s the baby at seven.”

“I call your bluff, Barnes,” Molly said with narrow eyes. “If you had seven siblings, you’d still be at home with your Mama helping take care of the babies.”

“Steve,” Bucky said with a serious face. “I’m not sure that I like this girl. She can see straight through my charms.”

“Well maybe that’s a good thing,” Molly countered. “So how many Barnes kids are running loose and wild in Brooklyn?”

“Two,” Bucky said shrugging. “Just me and my sister, Rebecca. She and my old lady are living out near Queens, clear cross the borough. I try to go out and see them at least once a week.”

“Once a week’s a good thing,” Molly said as Bucky knocked on the door to the McCray sisters’ apartment. 

“The McCray girls aren’t in today,” a neighbor lady called from the open door to Molly’s left. “They’ve gone into Manhattan to pick up their brother from Ellis Island.”

Bucky grimaced and then quickly covered it up with a smooth smile. “Thank you, ma’am. Do you happen to know how long they’ll be gone for?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” the lady replied with a shrug as one of her children raced out of the apartment and down the stairs to catch up with the others. “Would you like me to let them know they had a visitor?”

Bucky thought it over and nodded. “Just let Moira know James stopped by to see her. I’ll swing by her office tomorrow to see her.”

Molly and Steve headed back down the stairs as Bucky made nice with the neighbor lady before it was considered acceptable for him to rejoin them outside.

Molly spent the rest of the evening pouring over the papers Bucky had brought home to catch up on current events and to try to find an apartment of her own. She knew realistically she couldn’t afford to move out on her own at the moment, but at the same time too, Molly felt awkward living with two men she barely knew; even if one of them was her Grandfather. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Molly once again woke up in Steve’s bed, the boys having set up camp in the kitchen area around the stove. Molly woke up at five thirty, before Bucky or Steve made any kind of stirrings to get up and slid out into the hallway to use the bathroom before the Dalton children over ran the lone bathroom on their floor. She quickly washed up, brushed her teeth, dressed and took care of her business by six am and reemerged into the hall to find the older three Dalton girls squabbling about some boy from their math class.

Molly smiled at Steve and Bucky who were now sprawled out on the floor in the kitchen blocking her path to the stove. Armed with a container of oatmeal and a pan, Molly stepped over Bucky after nudging his arms out of the way, and side stepped around Steve’s head, she set up what she needed to make breakfast. Even if that meant kicking Bucky four or six times for trying to pull her down into an impromptu pig pile on the floor.

“Get up,” Molly ordered after the oatmeal was ready and she was dishing it out. “I made breakfast. You have to work, and I have to work. So we’re all getting up now, or I’m going to ask Violet Dalton to fill a pitcher of water to drown the two of you with.”

“Steve your taste in dames is horrible,” Bucky complained as he rolled up his bedding. “She’s makin’ us get up at the ass crack of dawn and being productive members of society.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Molly quipped as she sat down. “I’m gonna eat all of this if you don’t get up here. I hid the rest of your breakfast foods.”

“You wouldn’t,” Bucky said, jaw dropping.

Molly smirked.

“You would,” Bucky muttered pulling Steve to his feet. “I’m really starting to hate your taste in dames.”

“You’re only saying that because you feel threatened,” Molly retorted. 

Bucky and Steve laughed and disappeared into their room to get dressed.

 

At seven, the trio walked out the front door of the building, Bucky turning left to head towards the docks, and Steve escorted Molly to the All Saints Parish rectory to start her first day of work.

“I really do feel bad about making you and Bucky sleep in the kitchen,” Molly said as they walked down the street. “I don’t want to continue being a bother, but I don’t know where else to go.”

“It’s no problem,” Steve said. “What are we going to do? Turn away another homeless orphan? Bucky’s right, we orphans have to stick together.”

“He still has his mom,” Molly pointed out as they side stepped a pack of elementary school aged kids racing down the street to make it to class on time.

“They don’t actually get to see each other that often,” Steve said quietly. “I haven’t met his sister since she was a baby. I don’t know what happened, but when Bucky tries to go and visit once a month, he comes back drunker than a sailor on leave.”

Molly nodded, taking it in. “I just think we need to figure something out where I’m not the one making you sleep on the floor when you’re not feeling swell.”   
(If Molly had to admit to anything in the 1940s sucking so far, it would have to be the lingo. People from the 40s spoke weird.)

“We’ll figure something out,” Steve said, completely unworried. “There’s no rush to figure it out.”

“I just feel like I’m being a bother,” Molly muttered.

“You’re not a bother,” Steve countered. “You made breakfast and threatened to beat Bucky with a wooden spoon until he cleaned up and got ready for work. You’ve blown into our little apartment and it’s been cleaner in the past two days than it has been in months. Molly you’re the first dame, I mean woman, to look at me and then at Bucky and come back to me. I don’t want you to go. And neither does Bucky.”

Steve stopped on a bustling corner and looked up at Molly in the eyes. “We want you to stay as long as you need to. Besides, we have a date on Friday night, don’t we?”

“So I get to live with you and Bucky for another four days or so,” Molly mused, “and if the date goes horribly I have to move out?”

“No,” Steve said with a wicked grin forming on his face, “you move in with Moira and her sisters and their brother moves in with Buck and me.”

“Now why would me brother be moving in with the fella I’m going steady with?” Molly whirled around and came face to face with Moira McCray. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It certainly had been an eventful morning after Steve had left to get to work himself. This week, Steve had volunteered to work for a Chinese family’s laundry service and left Molly in the ever capable hands of Moira before fleeing to work. 

Molly had been set up in the Pastor’s office at a desk next to Moira to answer the telephone and to type up letters and the start of next week’s sermon and bulletin for masses. Molly was making $0.60 an hour, which was pretty good compared to what she could understand what the minimum wage was. 

Moira showed Molly the ins and outs of the office and how to do everything to the Pastor’s preferences. 

Lunch time found Molly and Moira lounging in a little park two blocks from the Church as the city around them bustled on. 

“When the good Father told me this morning that my James found me an assistant, I could hardly believe it,” Moira said picking the tomatoes out of her sandwich from a delicatessen’s. “Because James has been promising us an extra hand for weeks.”

“Well he kinda stumbled upon me,” Molly said between bites of her turkey sandwich. Turkey, mayo, lettuce on rye. Just like her Gran used to make for school. So sue her for sentimentality, Molly was eating with her grandmother and she was going to get her favorite sandwich come hell or high water. “He and Steve rescued me from a group of thugs on Saturday. I’ve got nowhere to go and no one in the city, so they’re forcing me into hijacking their bedroom while they’re sleeping on the floor in the kitchen. And I’m not allowed to consider moving into a woman’s home or the YWCA in near Queens.”

Moira sighed. “That’s the boys,” she said, her brogue thicker than Molly remembered. “James and Steven are very determined to help out when they can.” She muttered in Scottish something that Molly figured loosely translated to ‘stubborn asses’.

“They are stubborn asses,” Molly said in agreement, throwing Moira for a loop.

“You speak Gaelic?” the other young woman asked curiously.

“Not quite,” Molly admitted. “I can understand a few things and I can say yes and no. But my Gran never got around to teaching me too much. I knew just enough to understand what she was saying. My Dad didn’t want me to learn too much. He wanted to be more American.”

“He’s no son to Scotland,” Moira spat out, much to Molly’s amusement. If only Moira knew she was insulting her own son.

“That’s what Gran told him in Gaelic,” Molly said between sips of her Coca-Cola. Some things were a staple across time; Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola were such staples. “Poor schmuck didn’t know what hit him.”

Molly internally cringed. There she was flinging random Yiddish phrases out into conversation. Bless Moira’s little heart because she didn’t make a comment about Molly’s use of ‘schmuck’. 

“Then your Gran has a decent head on her shoulders,” Moira said holding her Pepsi-Cola up in toast.

“Had,” Molly corrected with a small frown. “She had a great mind.”

“I’m sorry for yer loss, Lassie,” Moira said, crossing herself. “May she find peace in Heaven.”

“Thank you,” Molly said squeezing Moira’s offered hand. “So, you and Bucky? There’s a story behind that. And I can’t wait to hear it.”

Moira rolled her eyes and sighed. “Not today. There simply isn’t enough time during out luncheon break. We should be getting back to the Rectory.”

Molly huffed and cleaned up her sandwich wrappings and followed the older girl back to the Rectory. “You’re right. But I’m going to get this story out of you or Bucky before the month is out!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By Wednesday Molly hadn’t gotten the story out of Moira or Bucky. Steve was equally tight lipped and it was driving Molly up the wall. 

“It really can’t be that bad of a story,” Molly needled after Father Kelly had been called out to bless a baby who’d been born a month early at home. 

“Not today,” Moira hissed. “The Monsignor is coming from St. Patrick’s in Manhattan.”

Molly harrumphed, the higher ups in the Church tended to be stuffy, old, white men who were incredibly sexist and sometimes downright rude. She wasn’t looking forward to this visit, and instead began to pound away at the typewriter before her. Thankfully, due to years of emailing and IM-use, Molly knew how to use a keyboard fairly well, and it hadn’t been too difficult to adjust to a typewriter. Spelling mistakes were another issue all together. Molly nearly chucked her typewriter out of the window four times on Thursday in the span of one hour, much to Moira’s amusement.

“They take a wee bit of getting used to, don’t they?” Moira asked from across the room as Molly grumbled and made use of the typewriter eraser Moira had presented her with on Tuesday. 

“I’ll have this monstrosity conquered by Friday afternoon, just you wait.” Molly retorted, her tongue peeking out between her lips as she fixed her mistakes and carried on with the letter. 

Friday morning found Molly sitting in the middle of the office literally freaking out. She’d been absolutely horrible at styling her hair like the other girls and women she’d seen around the city, and had just settled on a nice and easy braid twisted into a bun at the base of her neck for the past week. With $4 of the $9.50 she’d had left over from her accidental trip to Stark Manor, Molly had bought a second hand dress for her date tonight at thrift store down the street from Moira’s building.   
The source of this freak out was her lack of skill in hair styling. “I don’t know what to do with my hair for my date,” she moaned, forehead pressed against the cool wooden top of her desk. “Moira, I’m hopeless.”

Moira looked up from the letters to various bishops and Cardinals she was typing with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t think yer being a wee bit dramatic? Steve agreed to go to the pictures with you tonight, did he not?”

“Stop being a sage Scotswoman and help a Celt out,” Molly said pulling her head up to glare at Moira. “I have a date, hair that is far too long to be considered a bob in any sense and no time or money to go and get it bobbed before my date at seven.”

Moira opened her mouth to retort when Mrs. Johnson breezed into their little office space. “Ladies, I hope talk of your personal lives isn’t getting in the way of these letters for the annual Independence Day Church Gathering.”

“No, Mrs. Johnson,” Molly and Moira replied together. 

The older woman looked at the two of them and her smile softened. “Molly just leave your hair the way it is. I’m sure your young man won’t mind too much if he’s already asked you to be his date for the evening. Just remember, if you go dancing, make sure to leave room for the Holy Spirit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Molly replied as the matronly woman swept back out of the room.

“That was by far the strangest encounter I’ve ever had with Mrs. Johnson,” Moira said in awe of what had just transpired. 

 

Moira and Molly slipped out of the office early, having worked through their lunch hour so that Moira could help Molly get ready for her date.

“I don’t know why I’m freaking out,” Molly said sitting on a stool in Moira’s kitchen, Mary, Minerva, Elizabeth and Calum gathered in the cramped room watching as Moira styled Molly’s unruly curls. “I’m living with them. We’ve spent an entire week in each other’s faces and now I’m acting like a school girl meeting her favorite actor in Hollywood.”

“You must really like him,” sixteen year old Minerva said with a grin on her freckled face, her blue eyes shining in the dim lighting. “It’s exciting, is it not Mary?”

Seventeen year old Mary nodded as she poured over her grammar book, firmly ensconced in her homework. “Romantic even,” she offered up when she realized her sister was waiting for an answer. 

Calum rolled his eyes and fifteen year old Elizabeth sighed. “I wish I had a date tonight”

“Yer will not be dating or courting any boy until you have finished all of yer homework,” Moira ordered her younger sisters. “You girls not in America to get married. You’re in America to better yer studies. And Calum, Mum sent you here to help us out, you’ll be out looking for a job Monday morning, is that understood?”

“Yes, Moira,” the four younger McCray children chorused, but continued to watch the older women get Molly ready. 

“You should join the military,” Molly joked. “You keep these four in better line than any drill sergeant ever could.”

“It’s all about putting a healthy fear of God into them,” Moira whispered. “That and they’re terrified I’ll send Mum a telegram that I’m sending them back home to Glasgow.”

“You’re a devious Scott, Ms. Moira. We should be friends,” Molly announced. 

“The best of friends, Ms. Barton,” Moira replied and they dissolved into giggles until Moira tugged at a particularly nasty tangle that left Molly howling in pain. “What in God’s good name have you been doing to your hair, lassie?” Moira demanded. 

“Braiding it, you heathen!” Molly countered, slapping Moira’s hand away. “My poor scalp has been attacked by the barbaric Scotts!”

Moira smacked at Molly’s flailing hands with the hair brush and set back to work. “If you would just sit still this wouldn’t take as long. Calm yourself. You’re acting like a wee one.”

“I am CALM,” Molly bit back moaning about her poor hair. “You’re just a barbarian with a hair brush.”

“If anyone is a barbarian, it’s you for not knowing how to care for yer own hair, Molly Barton. What kind of Scotsman are you?” Moira spat out.

“One without a mother,” Molly started truthfully.

Moira’s face fell. The girls and Calum stopped chattering.

“I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Molly asked looking at their stunned faces.

“Aye,” Calum said gently. 

“How long has it been?” Elizabeth asked. “Since your Mum left, that is.”

“I was three, I think,” Molly said quietly. “She just didn’t want to be a parent anymore. She left in the middle of the night, packed some things and was gone when   
Daddy woke up the next morning. She had pinned a note to his jacket on her way out and that’s how we knew she wasn’t coming home anymore. I didn’t really notice. It wasn’t like I saw her very often. She was working two jobs that we knew of, and a third Dad didn’t know about. She’d work in a speakeasy as a cigarette girl when we thought she was working for a dry cleaner or a when we thought she was working in a factory.”

“That’s uh,” Moira searched for the proper response but couldn’t find the words.

“It’s not a big deal,” Molly said with a shrug. “I don’t remember what I never had in the first place. My Gran raised me and my Dad. I used to get so honored when people would say I looked just like me Da.”

“It must be hard being without them,” Mary said quietly. “I miss Mum and Dad, something awful, but I know they’re in Glasgow.”

Molly nodded. “It’s rough,” she admitted. “I miss them every day, but I know they’ll be proud of me.”

“That’s the important part,” Minerva said tidying up the dinner table. “Mo, do you think you and James will be gone long?” Molly could hear the dislike Minerva had for Bucky dripping from the word of her question.

“We’re going to dinner and dancing,” Moira replied, glaring at her younger sister. “And watch your tone of voice. Go on and fetch the post, now. I know you didn’t bring it up after you came in from school. Get on you.”

Minerva stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her as she went. 

“What’s her issue?” Molly asked, shifting in her chair as Moira finished brushing out her hair. 

Moira looked up and saw her other three sibling watching and listening eagerly. “You lot get out. Into the sitting room with you, go on!”

The younger siblings groaned and filed out into the sitting room area and Moira closed the door behind them.

Once she was sure they weren’t eavesdropping, Moira had pounded on the door startling a yelp out of Elizabeth, Moira spoke. “She fancied James first, to be honest. I didn’t give him a second glance when he started flirting with me. Minerva fell for him, but he wasn’t interested in her. She feels like I’ve personally slighted her. She takes it out on James because she knows if she acts out against me, I’ll have her on the next Glasgow-bound ship. I’m thinking of sending her home anyways. Mum’s with child again and needs an extra set of hands to keep control of the babies.” 

Molly would have nodded, except when she went to move her head, Moira grabbed her skull and righted it to began pulling it up into some sort of gravity defying hair style. “Do you think Minerva will ever get over it?” 

Molly had no idea. After the war and Moira staying in America with Junior, the most she saw of her family were Christmas Card photographs and letters. Elizabeth and her family had flown over when Molly had been six, and she’d been so excited to meet her Great-Aunt and cousins. And the last time Molly had seen her Gran’s family had been at her Gran’s funeral when she was nine. 

Uncle Tony and Aunt Mary, Alastair’s daughter, had gotten into a huge shouting match, Gran had always called them rows, after the wake about Molly’s living arrangements. Gran and Daddy’s wills both had Tony listed for legal guardian in the event they could no longer take care of Molly, and the McCray Clan had balked at the idea of the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, party boy taking custody of an impressionable child. Molly had walked into the middle of the row and clung to Tony’s leg wailing about never wanting to leave him. Molly’s impromptu water works and Tony’s lawyers kept her in America with Tony Stark. In the end it worked out pretty damn good. Tony and Molly raised each other in certain aspects and joined forces to drive Pepper Potts up the wall in aggravation. 

“I can’t be certain,” Moira said quietly. “She may be a child, but that wee bonnie lassie knows how to hold a grudge. I pray that she will.”

Before Molly could respond, Minerva came back into the apartment, pile of mail in one hand. “There’s a letter from Mum for you. I dunna see why she didn’t give it to Calum when he left home.”

“There’s this nifty thing called ‘Air Mail’,” Molly said with excessive use of air quotes to aggravate Minerva. She didn’t like her Great Aunt very much at the moment. Even if the girl was younger than she was. “It’s much faster than coming across the ocean on a steamer like Calum did.”

Minerva looked like she wanted to stick her tongue out, but knew better than to act so brashly in front of company.

Moira opened the envelope, read it over and sighed before sticking in the pocket of the apron she was wearing over her dress. “Mum wants you lot home,” she said quietly. “Elizabeth and Calum can stay for a wee bit longer, but you and Mary need to pack up yer things. They’ll wire money for plane tickets if need be, but you and Mary are to come home by the end of the month.”

“What for?” Minerva demanded. “I want to stay here.”

“Dad’s had a bad fall, and Mum’s expecting again,” Moira snapped. “Now finish up with supper and start packing yer things!”

“Should I go?” Molly asked from her perch in the middle of the family feud. “Because I can go and just meet Steve at the apartment. You’ve got a lot on your hands   
right now.”

“Sit yer arse on that stool,” Moira said.

Molly sat her arse down on the stool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four is going to take a few more days before it's ready to go up. It's Mid Terms Week and Advising Week. I usually like to have the next chapter finished before I post, but I wanted to get this up and then finish studying for this test. Enjoy!


	4. Molly and Steve Go on their First Date while Moira and Bucky Hold Down the Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Molly go on their very first date, Minerva's ugly side comes out and Steve and Molly discover that they both can't dance.

 

Chapter Four – Molly and Steve’s First Date while Bucky and Moira hold down the fort

Moira had finished tugging and pulling Molly’s hair into a respectable up do, that paired with subtle make up, transformed Molly into a completely different person.

“Wow,” Molly breathed out in surprise as she stared at her reflection in the mirror in the living room. “Just wow.”

“You like it?” Elizabeth asked eagerly. She’d been the one to pick out the style. Molly made a mental note that if she ever got home, to look up Aunt Elizabeth and see if she was still alive. Elizabeth was her second favorite McCray at the moment.

“I love it, thank you!” Molly gushed and twirled around in her new dress. “Do you think Steve will like my dress?”

“You were right,” Moira said from the doorway into the kitchen. “Yer like a schoolgirl meeting Clarke Gabel.”

Molly grinned at Moira. “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” she quipped much to the amusement of Mary and Elizabeth.

Minerva huffed from the kitchen. Calum told her to shut up.

Molly liked Calum. If she had a brother, she’d like him to be like Calum. Or Clint Barton, whose last name Molly had assumed for the time being.

Elizabeth and Mary were showing Molly what some of their coursework comprised of when Steve and Bucky knocked on the door and were let in by Calum.

Bucky whistled and Steve’s jaw dropped. Molly looked up and her face was as red as her lipstick when she met Steve’s eyes.

“Hi,” she said quietly as Steve crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek.

“Hi yourself,” Steve replied in awe.

Bucky disappeared down the hall to see Moira, motioning for Mary and Elizabeth to follow him to give Molly and Steve some privacy.

Molly started laughing and stopped herself. “Oh my God, I don’t know what to talk about without feeling like a nervous wreck.”

Steve nodded. “I seem to have that problem right now, too.”

They looked at each other and started to laugh again. Molly swore up and down she could hear Uncle Tony yelling to Pepper that he was surrounded by lovesick children, and almost cried.

“Molly, are you okay?” Steve asked concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said discreetly wiping at the tears that had started to well up. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking of what my Dad would say if he saw me getting ready for my first date. Lord Almighty, he’d have a coronary. His baby girl! On a date with a boy!”

Steve smiled and Moira’s sisters tittered with laughter.

“Sounds like our dad,” Elizabeth giggled. “I miss him.”

Minerva slammed something down in her room and growled.

“Best not mention that around Minerva,” Molly suggested quietly. “She’s a bit tetchy.”

Mary sighed. “I best go tame the savage beast before she ruins something she’ll regret.”

Steve and Molly smiled at each other again, and Molly spun around, flaring out the skirt of her new green dress. “Do you like it?” she asked with a soft smile.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said honestly as Bucky came back down the hall.

“You two love birds can go on without us,” Bucky said slipping some money into Steve’s hand. “Moira’s gotta talk to Mary and Minerva and I’m staying to be moral support. Maybe next week.”

“Watch out for Minerva,” Molly whispered as she gave Bucky a quick hug before she and Steve left. “She’s in a bit of a mood.”

“I’ve noticed,” Bucky muttered. “Now get out of here before Steve thinks I’m stealing his dame.”

Molly slipped her hand into Steve’s and they left Moira’s in a comfortable silence.

As they walked down the block, Molly took the time to appreciate the start of the 1940s. She was secretly thrilled to see all of the giant, black, beastly looking cars driving on the streets mixed in with the yellow cabs. Molly could also appreciate the dresses and hats the ladies wore that color coordinated with their dresses for a special occasion. She loved the sounds of the dance halls they passed, the sounds of laughter, music, and couples dancing poured out into the streets as they strolled along.

“Molly, are you okay?” Steve asked, pulling Molly from her musings.

“Oh, sorry, just taking in the city. Were you saying something?” Molly stopped day dreaming about the lives of the people they were passing and came back down to Earth to focus on what Steve was saying to her.

“I was just pointing out that the line to the ticket booth looks mighty long. We might not make the pictures tonight, after all.” Steve pointed to the long line of couples and teenaged girls outside of the theater.

“Aw, applesauce,” Molly muttered. “Shall we try dinner first and then come back and see if there’s a latter showing?” Molly internally applauded herself for using more old lingo. Even if she was plucking at knowledge from a 1920s Murder Mystery Party she went to in April.

“Why not,” Steve said linking arms with Molly. “Miss Barton, will you give me the honor of taking you to dinner this fine evening?”

“Why, Mr. Rogers!” Molly giggled, playing along. “I thought you’d never ask!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Molly was still adjusting the major price differences, and was beyond surprise when their entire meal cost less than five dollars for dinner, desert and coffee. (The look on the waitress’s face had been priceless when Molly proceeded to load the entire sugar bowl into her cup with half a little pitcher of milk. The sweeter the coffee, the better, in her opinion.)

“So, you said your family was from upstate,” Steve started after they were seated at their table in the back corner of the little restaurant.

“Yeah, up around Ticonderoga on Lake George.” Molly answered with a little smile. “The family my Gran and Dad worked for moved out to Malibu when I was around eight or nine. Southern California is very different from rural New York.”

“I can imagine,” Steve said with a shrug.

“It was nice for a while,” Molly smiled. “Once a month, my Dad would take me to Hollywood to go see the stars. Vivien Leigh is such a nice lady.”

“You met Vivien Leigh?” Steve asked surprised.

“Oh yes,” Moll said with a sly smile. “She was Gran’s favorite. Especially in Gone With the Wind. Scarlett O’Hara has such attitude and spunk.”

“Bucky set me up with a date to go and see it with him and Moira as a double date,” Steve said with a grimace. “She ended sneaking out during the intermission, but I enjoyed the movie.”

“Oh, Steve! That’s horrible!” Molly said.

“It’s okay, Molly,” Steve shrugged. “I hate to say it, but I’m used to it.”

“It’s really not okay, Steve,” Molly replied, fiddling with her menu. “And I thought you said this was your first ever date.”

“It’s the first date I’ve been on that Bucky hasn’t had to try and fix us up.” Steve grinned at Molly. “He tries, he really does, but when a guy like Bucky asks you if you’ll be his friend’s date for a double date on Friday, you’re probably going to assume that Bucky’s friend is going to look more like Bucky and less like me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with looking like you,” Molly retorted quickly. “I’d prefer to go out with a guy that looks like you any day of the week.”

Steve laughed as a waitress headed for their table and Molly grinned. She was proud she was able to put a real smile on Steve’s face. He was so serious all the time, seeing him laugh and smile was fabulous, especially since everyone in America would have another reason to be so serious in just over a year with the Pearl Harbor attacks and American involvement in the war looming on the horizon.

“What’ll it be?” the waitress asked, the look of disbelief on her face evident. Apparently Steve couldn’t get a date in this part of the city. Or the waitress was still trying to wrap her head around Molly’s overly sugared coffee. ‘ _Just wait until Starbucks comes along, Sweetheart_ ,’ Molly thought with a little smile.

Molly shrugged and let Steve order for her. Steve and Bucky frequented this restaurant so she trusted his judgment.

“Two specials please, Hilda,” Steve ordered politely as he handed her their menus.

“Alright, two specials for Scrawny Steve and his date,” Hilda said and wandered off.

Molly glared at the waitress’s retreating back. “Am I allowed to throw things at her? Or trip her? Or is that just too uncivil for a lady in New York?”

Steve sighed and played with his fork. “That’ll just get her husband involved….and Bucky’ll kill me if I go out on a date and start a fight in the middle of my first date.”

“Fine,” Molly muttered. “But I’ll get even with her, one way or another. Just you wait and see.”

“Are you sure you’re not related to Bucky?” Steve teased gently before his blush spread across his face.

“Why, Steven Rogers,” Molly proclaimed with a giggle, “Are you teasing me?”

“Maybe,” Steve admitted under Molly’s needling.

“Well then, you’re just going to have to buy me a milkshake to apologize,” Molly announced.

Steve smiled. “I think we can do that.”

After Hilda had come back and delivered two of that night’s specials; meatloaf, baked potatoes and green beans, Steve and Molly were back to talking about their families.

“So you know all about my family insanity,” Molly said chasing a trail of gravy down her potato volcano. So she was a giant four year old, deal with it. “What about your family story?”

“My Dad died in the war,” Steve said simply. “Mustard gas, I think. He served in the Army 107th, and if the United States ever got involved in Europe, I’d enlist so I can serve like he did.”

Molly nodded, the sympathy felt without being verbalized. They both knew that the knee jerk ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ wouldn’t do anything to bring their parents back to them. “And your mother?”

“She was a nurse,” Steve said, a soft smile unfolding on his face. “She worked hard, and did the best she could raising me with what we had. We used to go down to Coney Island the first weekend of the month during the summer when I was little. If I wasn’t sick.”

“Having a nurse for a mother sounds like it might have been handy when you were sick,” Molly said while she pushed a wayward hair behind her ear.

Steve nodded as he bit into his meatloaf. “It was, until she got sick too.”

Molly mulled over how to respond to Steve’s admission, “Did you both come down with the same illness or…”

“No, no,” Steve replied quickly. “She worked in a Tuberculosis ward at the hospital. I guess it was only a matter of time before she picked it up and couldn’t shake it.”

“How old were you?” Molly asked quietly, she knew Steve must have been young when his Mom died. She was slightly afraid to find out just _how_ young he had been when he’d been orphaned.

“Eight or nine, somewhere in there,” Steve looked a little uncomfortable talking about it, and Molly felt bad for making him even remotely uncomfortable. “That’s how I met Bucky anyways. Sister Mary Margret put us in the same dormitory at the parish orphanage.”

“But I thought Bucky and his Mom…” Molly started very confused.

“His parents hit a rough patch,” Steve shrugged. “That’s not my part of the story to tell anyways.”

“I got it, no more pressing,” Molly said between sips of caffeinated goodness.  “So how about going to see that picture?”

“Looks like they’re still sold out,” Steve said quietly when they got up to the ticket window of the theater a half an hour later.

“That’s too bad,” Molly said with a sad smile. “We could go dancing, instead, if you want.”

Steve smiled at Molly and shrugged. “I can’t dance.”

“Can’t dance or never tried?” Molly asked in response. “I can do a mean stand and sway, but if we’re gonna have to learn actual dance steps, I think we need Bucky and Moira.” Molly was secretly cheering on the inside because she couldn't dance that well either. 

Steve agreed, offering Molly his arm. “Miss Barton, shall I escort you back to the humble abode of Miss McCray.”

“Why of course, Mr. Rogers,” Molly said with a giggle pretending to fan herself. “Let’s just hope a certain child has calmed herself down and is ready to act like a civil human being when we get back.”

 

 

Minerva had, in fact, chosen to take the low road in this situation. She was currently hurling curse words at Moira in Gaelic and throwing things in the living room in a very uncivilized manner.

 Molly groaned and Steve flinched as a flying projectile broke a spindly wooden chair. Bucky and Moira stood on one side of the pale blue sitting room and Minerva at the other end, armed with a plethora of personal belongings.

“I’M NOT GOING!” she shouted.

Molly heard a bedroom door slam followed the quiet snick of the lock. Mary, Elizabeth and Calum must have holed themselves up in Moira and Mary’s bedroom.

As Minerva continued to hurl abuse at her sister and Bucky in two languages, Molly grabbed the broken chair and ripped a leg off of it.

“ENOUGH YOU SELFISH BITCH!” Molly hollered, raising the chair leg above her head. “I’ve never in my life met a more ungrateful child then you!”

The room fell silent. After a heartbeat, the bedroom door unlocked and the other three McCray’s stuck their heads out the door.

“Get over yourself this very second, Minerva McCray, or so help me God, I’ll give you something to scream about!” Molly threatened. “You’re causing a scene in the hall and the last thing your sister needs right now is a neighbor calling the police!”

Minerva turned to Molly, a murderous rage spreading across her face, locking onto a new target.

“If you open your mouth before I finish, I will hit you with this chair leg.” Molly promised, looking Minerva dead in the eyes. “You will go pack a bag. You will leave this neighborhood for the evening. The Brooklyn YWCA stops taking guests at 8 o’clock on Friday evenings. You have roughly twenty minutes. Get your things and get out. You will not be welcomed back into this building for two days. Now get out.”

Minerva whirled to face a shaking Moira, who was clinging to Bucky like her life depended on it. “You cannot let her throw me out!” she shrieked in anger. “She doesn’t even live here!”

“But she’s right,” Moira said, taking a deep breath. “Git yer things and git out of me home. You will only be welcomed back on the day you fly back to Scotland. Do you understand me young lady?”

“And if you think for one minute that Molly and I won’t stand behind what your sister has just said, you have another thing coming, Minerva,” Bucky added, his voice dangerously quiet. “Now get a bag and get out.”

Minerva turned on her heel and stormed down the hall, her siblings slamming the door to the room they had taken refuge in as she passed.

“What brought that on?” Steve asked once Minerva had gone back to her room.

“Look, I know she’s your sister,” Bucky started, looking over at his very distressed girlfriend. “But that crazy bitch thinks that I’m in love with her and that Mo is hogging me by sending Minerva away to keep me all to herself.”

“Calling her a crazy bitch is letting her off easy,” Molly said, sinking into an intact chair.

Before anyone could react, Minerva reappeared, small suitcase in one hand and a jacket in the other.

“I’m leaving then,” She announced, looking each person in the sitting room in the eyes. “I hope your proud of yerselves. I’ll return in four days time. Good evening.”

And Minerva was gone.

“Right,” Moira said, shakily getting to her feet. “Fancy a cuppa?”

 

An hour later, after the boys had cleaned up the sitting room and Molly, Elizabeth and Mary had flocked to Moira’s side and pampered her in tea and blankets, they settled into the sitting room on the couches and arm chairs.

 “Mo, I hate to tell you, but your younger sister is a total psycho bitch,” Molly said bluntly from her seat curled up into Steve.

“So says the crazed woman who threatened to beat Minnie with a chair leg,” Calum muttered from his perch.

“I’m still shaking from that,” Molly admitted. “The adrenaline is a bitch to deal with after a crazy stunt like that. I don’t know what I would have done if I actually had to go at her with the chair pieces.”

“You were bluffing that whole time?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Steven, like I was actually going to take my friend’s little sister on? Come on,” Molly said, looking at her well, boyfriend, like he’d grown another head.

“That was a pretty damn good bluff,” Bucky complimented Molly. “I’m glad you two came back when you did, or I would have lost it. Mama Barnes raised me to never strike a woman, but she was asking for it.”

“I didn’t like it,” Elizabeth chipped in. She was curled up on the opposite side of Bucky, gripping hands with Moira tightly across the man’s lap. “She was like a demon, the way she was throwing things. Don’t send Mary back to Glasgow with her, Moira! Please!”

“I’ll ring Mum in the morning,” Moira decided. “And see if I can send Mary on ahead and then the Demon Child after. I’m sorry that means you’ll can’t go back to school on Monday, Mary. I know you wanted to say goodbye to your friends.”

“It’s alright,” Mary said fiddling with her tea. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. It’s rather frightening. I hope Mum sends her to Uncle Donald’s when Minnie gets home. It’ll do her some good out there in the country.”

“She does need to be put in her place,” Moira agreed quietly. “My heavens!” she said suddenly looking at the clock and back to Molly and Steve. “Just what do the two of you think yer doin’ sitting on me couch when you should be out on a date!”

Steve and Molly grinned at each other sheepishly. “Well the thing is, we can’t dance,” Steve said finally. “And the pictures were sold out. We figured we’d come back and ask you and Bucky to come out dancing with us.”

“And we walked in on the Possessed One throwing a temper tantrum fit for Hell itself,” Molly added.

 Bucky extracted himself from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Mary, you and Elizabeth should be getting onto bed now,” Moira sighed looking at the clock. “It’s getting late for Lizzie.”

“Mo, I am fifteen,” the youngest sister interjected. “I’m not thirteen anymore. I can stay up past nine o’clock, can’t I?”

“Not until you graduate from high school,” Moira replied, kissing Elizabeth’s forehead. “Besides, you’ve just had all the excitement you need for a month tonight. We can talk in the morning. Go on, now.”

Mary and Elizabeth went  down the hall as Bucky emerged from the kitchen, a bottle of bourbon in hand. “Figured we could all use a stiff drink after tonight.”

Molly watched as Bucky poured liberal doses into everybody’s tea cups, and doubled the amount in Moira’s cup.

Molly sniffed at her drink and took a tentative sip before grimacing at the taste.

“You’re not a big drinker, are you?” Bucky inquired as he set down the bottle and sat next to Moira.

“How could you tell?” Molly responded as she set her tea aside.

“Your lack of appreciation for decent booze for one,” Bucky stated with a grin. “And the face you just made.”

Molly smirked. “Yeah, I’ve never had alcohol before….”

“Steven, you would pick up the innocent goody two shoes,” Bucky muttered with a teasing grin. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

Steve laughed and Molly giggled. For a slightly ruined first date, the evening had turned out alright after all.   

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in the chapter update. Midterms, papers, school work and actual work got in the way. With a slew of long weekends and end of semester coming up I should be able to work on a few new chapters soon :)


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